


Morning Sex

by Marshmallow3



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Love Bites, Missionary Position, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Overhearing Sex, Scratching, Spanking, Train Sex, Voice Kink, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 08:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17894588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallow3/pseuds/Marshmallow3
Summary: Imagine - morning sex with Jacob Frye.





	Morning Sex

**Author's Note:**

> You’ll have to forgive my cheesy dialogue. Dirty talk really isn’t my forte. One line is meant to be over the top, but even that makes me embarrassed!

You stir early in the morning, vaguely registering a pleasant sensation blooming between your legs. The product of another sex dream, you assume, thinking nothing of it as you will your muscles to roll your body onto its side, jerking awake when a pair of hands keep you firmly in place.

Your eyelids curse you as you crack them open, hands rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peer down your body. Moaning sleepily as the warm pleasure builds, you greet the head positioned between your thighs with a gentle stroke of its owner’s dark and silky hair.

The more you wake up, the easier you identify the source of pleasure, feeling a slick tongue dancing on your clit and rolling up and down the lips of your apparently wet sex.

“Mo-morning, Jacob,” you coo, your hand roaming your body as your hips begin to writhe under his attentive touch. He grunts in response, the outline of his smirk pressing against your lips. God, you can only imagine what his lips look like right now. Puffed and glistening with your juices, shinier than normal and just as pink as always. It’s a thought that has your hushed moans tumble out quicker, closing your eyes and giving yourself to the blissful sensation of his skilled tongue.

You can hear movement in the carriages surrounding yours. You know you should keep quiet, after all the Rooks seem to love gossiping about yours and the Boss’ sex life. No embellishment needed, Jacob is an incredibly talented man in (and quite a few times, outside of) the bedroom, but the chatter tends to make things awkward to say the least when facing your friend Evie, who somehow always catches wind of every word uttered in London. As much as she supports your relationship with her brother, she naturally grimaces when forced to endure the details.

Despite this you’re always quick to give up the fight, especially when his hands start rubbing and squeezing your thighs in just the right way. You stutter his name in a way that could only be overheard as sexual, cursing through breathy sighs, the springs of the mattress creaking as you grind your hips against his face, the scratch of his beard offering wonderful stimulation to your thighs.

His hands now holding you firmly by the waist, your body slumps as he picks up the pace, audibly moaning against your sex as if he were sampling the most delicious wine. The vibrations drive you further into a tantilising orgasm, your hand tugging the strands of hair beneath your fingertips, rocking your hips and mewling joyfully in orgasm. Your cum pools from your sex, and Jacob eagerly laps it up with a pleased groan.

Lifting his head and pressing kisses to your stomach, you find yourself giggling as his hair tickles your skin. Stroking his cheek with your thumb, you gaze down at your lover contentedly, before uttering three words that take even you by surprise.

“Fuck me, Jacob.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your language, smirking at the way his personality rubs off on you. Though blushing, you’re barely in the mindset to dwindle on being embarrassed, especially when he lifts his body up and you spy a heavy-looking erection bobbing with his movements. Rutting his cock against your sex, he brings his mouth to your ear and teases you in that husky voice you love.

“You want me to fuck you, love?”

“I do.”

“Mmh, ask me nicely.”

Smug bastard, you think to yourself. Here you are, naked and dripping wet underneath him, and he still tries to push for more strokes to his ego. You bat your eyelashes, playing along with his game.

“Please, Mr. Frye. I fear I may go mad if you don’t fuck me with that big, perfect, beautiful cock.”

Grinning in response, he takes your chin and kisses you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as you suckle your juices from him, your hands bracing his ass as you feel him shift his hips into the right angle. Bumping noses with you, he looks into your eyes as the stretch of his cock burns pleasantly, oohs escaping your lips at the sultry contact.

His breath hitches at the feel of your red-hot walls embracing him, welcoming him back with only a little pleasurable resistance.

“That’s a good girl. You gonna take all of my cock?”

You nod feverishly, spreading your legs further when you feel his hips close the distance between yours. You can’t help sigh when his head prods a pleasure spot inside you. He pauses at your reaction, draws back just a little before snapping his hips forward, his cock stimulating the same spot while filling you entirely.

He slings his arm under your body, holding you flush against him as his hips start rolling into you, your cries and the slap of skin on skin soon filling the carriage.

Missionary might be simple to others, but for you it’s perfect.

The bump and grind of his hips is deliciously erotic, his cock rubbing your walls in such a way that he’s easily driving you towards another phenomenal orgasm. The weight of his muscles as he pins you down, the press of sloppy kisses down your jawline, the lingering smell of sweat as it drips from his skin at the exertion of fucking you wildly, all of it combines and has you lost in the pleasure he gives you.

Your voice separates from your body as it chants his name, ahhs and oohs spilling out unceremoniously, your sounds hitting a crescendo as your world shatters, your orgasm crashing over you violently. You’re barely able to register the way your legs spasm, tightening around his hips, your nails digging deep into his chest as you scratch and claw your way back to sanity, your head slumped and your chest heaving, lungs panting gluttonously for air.

Jacob showers you with praise and kisses, but he doesn’t slow his pace or give you chance to recover. Doubling his efforts, he buries his face in your neck, lips attacking the sensitive skin with all kind of attention. Lip bites, kisses, licks, sucks and nibbles, he loves to mark you in the throes of passion, especially when those marks are barely concealed by your collar when you’re dressed and in public. It gives him something to smile privately about.

“I love you,” you simper, your bottom lip wobbling in pleasure.

He crushes his lips against yours and kisses you passionately, intimately grabbing your hips as you grab his ass, squeezing and smacking the cheeks. Heavy panting kisses deprive you of air for a moment, but the heat of his breath as he exhales through his nose is more than enough to distract you.

You rock your hips upwards into his thrusts, finding yourself squeezing your walls voluntarily around his length, which never fails to make him curse under his breath. Nudging his forehead against yours, he bores his hazel eyes into yours. Both of your gazes are clouded over with lust, your muscles trembling, his hips faltering as he approaches his own orgasm. The affection is evident in each other’s faces as you gasp out, heat flooding your vision as you drown in another orgasm.

Jacob pulls you back in for kisses, hot and heavy against your overstimulated skin. You muffle your cries against his lips. He bites down on your lower lip with a series of grunts, slamming his hips forward like a choppy tide before releasing his cum inside you, panting, dropping to his elbows and kissing you breathless.

“I love you too,” he mutters, eyes closed, his face awash with pleasure as he debates pulling his softening cock out. Not wanting to crush you with his lead-like weight, he slips out and rolls you both over, laying in the middle of the bed with you curled up into his frame.

The white noise of the train returns in the ensuing silence, the clackety-clack of the wheels on the rails, the muffled babble of conversation and cheer in the neighbouring cars. You breathe out a laugh, snuggling your burning face in his chest, fingers tracing his tattoos.

“You think anyone heard us?” You ask in a dramatic coyness.

“Nah,” he jests, snickering. Mentally calculating how many times he made you come, he stares at the ceiling with a smug grin, the stickiness of your juices evident on the newly sullied bedsheets beneath him.

Twenty, thirty minutes is all he needs before he’s seducing you again.

Your entire body screams at you to say no, perfectly satisfied and sapped of energy as it is. Your libido simply smirks; you swing your legs over his hips and, after a few strokes, sink back down onto his cock, your clit already humming at the wanton stimulation it’s about to receive.

 


End file.
